


Additional Tasks

by Ghost0Silvers



Series: Stumbling Through [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Chloe is boss for getting everyone sorted out, Gavin is confusing and somehow thats a turn on, Multi, RK900 sucks at emotions but he is trying, falling into a relationship, learning your crush is taken is harder, totally a xmas fic, trying to figure out people is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 16:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost0Silvers/pseuds/Ghost0Silvers
Summary: RK900 has one thing that sees him through day to day, and that is trying to understand his very confusing partner. It has become something of a puzzle that has kept his attention after months of working with Detective Reed, but the more he learns the less he really knows. By the time he learns that maybe he has something of feelings for the detective he also learns that Reed is very much taken already. This is not shaping up to be a great first christmas for him, but somehow it turns out for the best.





	Additional Tasks

**Author's Note:**

> So this... this is not what I meant to write today. This is six hours of my day because I wrote this in one sitting because apparently I am crazy? Also this is totally what I spent my birthday doing and I have to be up for work in three and a half hours, haahaa crap. Happy birthday to me, I will be a zombie tomorrow. 
> 
> Fair warning, I do not proof read and I fail at contractions! Please take this randomness now.

It became something of a goal to figure out Detective Reed, an objective on his list that stayed in a steady glow day after day, the only constant to his existence somehow. RK900 knew that would always be just on the edge of his vision under the heading Additional Tasks. Sometimes other things went over there, but it was rare, generally it was minor things, reminders of meetings at Jericho like he might forget otherwise. What social program he had was lacking any helpful advice on how to go about the task, and so it stayed rather untouched and with no progress for the longest time. Really it was more he was lacking a social program so there was nothing to prompt him on what to do. RK900 had tried to follow his predecessors footsteps and ask questions, that had failed horribly because Reed just locked down even more. What he did scan and analyze was only somewhat helpful because it seemed he was stuck with the most random human to exist. 

For example, Detective Reed smoked. Sometimes. At random intervals that as far as RK900 could tell had no pattern, there was nothing linking stress or sleep cycles, nothing for triggers. Just sometimes Reed chain smoked for a couple of days then would not touch a pack for weeks, then smoke just half a cig on a random day. There was also the one time he had a cigar instead. 

Almost everything went that. RK900 had a running spreadsheet in hopes that at some point a pattern would in fact emerge, but seven months into working with Reed he was starting to think that was impossible. 

The task stayed on his list, calmly glowing as a steady reminder, an unchanging goal in the face of a world that was doing nothing but changing at a rapid pace. It was steadying really, that he at least could count on Reed making no sense, ever. No one else seemed to understand him either, which was oddly a comfort, because he had asked around. While it was true most of their coworkers really did not have much in good light to say about the detective, most did not have much negative to say either. There was the expected things of course, Reed had anger issues, sometimes but then sometimes in the face of an event that should make him snap he barely could be bothered to shrug. He was standoffish, except he knew everyone’s significant other’s name, kids names, pets names, birthdays and even anniversaries and tended to drop word on important days, ask how things were going. 

The only thing most could agree on evenly was that he was dedicated to his job, that he pushed to do the best he could, that he logged too many hours and took too few days off. That was unchanging, and RK900 could admire that, for all the man’s fault he was loyal to the job. 

As far as RK900 could tell Detective Reed had no friends really, but he had some people he would talk to more than others, he had people he would talk to less than others as well. It was a delicate balance though because sometimes that list flipped on its axis and left everyone around unbalanced. Someone had once said that Reed hated Anderson. And maybe sometimes that seemed so very true, the belittling remarks that cut with a sneer and dismissive tone. Sometimes though Reed was the first to snap at others for their offhand comments, the first to wander by the man’s desk with a casual greeting and small talk flowing easily. It was the same in a fashion with Chen, general gossip was that she was his best friend but that also seem to depend on the day. From lunch get togethers and after work beers to outright offensive reprimands and cold dismissal. 

Detective Reed made no sense. None. And that kept RK900’s attention in a way that nothing else did. 

Connor had once made the passing comment that it had to be a curse to have the processing power than they had, it was a shared moment of understanding between them. A human might never understand just how much data they truly took in day to day, the amount of information at their fingertips with a glance. It was passed off as useful that they could have reports in their head, that they could view video surveillance directly, that they could look at someone and know their entire file both publicly and some not so public things. The lesser known, or maybe simply ignored facts was that it was impossible to simply stop. A glance could have them slipping into coding of anything electronic around them, slipping through firewalls with maybe a millisecond pause. A mention of a name opened endless doors, it did not just stop of public records, it went to anything linked to the person, simple things like credit history, to things like medical history, or their entire internet footnote. 

In a word that was very predictable, with people that had set ways it was hard to be taken by surprise, impossible to have someone continue to surprise. So the prompt to learn more about Detective Reed stayed a clear cut objective that taunted RK900. A task he was not sure how to go about. 

There were known facts, things that bleed through in moments that Reed had his defenses lowered, teasing glimpses of what type of person he might be past all his masks. Animals were the first thing that RK900 had learned about. It had been something easily overlooked the first time, an offhand comment at a crime scene. Detective Reed telling an officer to look for the dog hiding somewhere in the house, he had been the only one that reacted to the dishes on the floor. At that time RK900 had written it off. Other things had added to it over time, Reed pausing at stray animals, how he would reach a hand out to whatever pet on hand of people they had to question. If someone commented however Reed would snarl and draw back, angry and defensive. Still time had given away that Detective Reed had a soft spot for animals. That had somehow made Reed more real. A foolish feeling RK900 was aware. 

Second fact was that Reed lived with someone. There was no record of who it could be however. There was no other name on the mortgage of the moderate house that Reed had, no pictures on his desk. No phone contact that showed up more than others to hint at a roommate of any type. That RK900 knew about this mysterious person exiting at all was an accident, slip of the tongue on Reed’s part, and offhand comment to Officer Mills one day. Apparently his washing machine had died and he had commented about not being told till he tried to use it, in relation to Mills complaining about sometimes sharing space was hard. Conclusion was that Reed lived with someone. It had taken months to get another clue into this, but Reed had placed a phone order for a birthday cake on his break one day and had for once left on time, saying he had to head home. RK900 had asked around but no one had known anything, everyone had in fact told him he was reading too much into it, maybe he had family out of town visiting or something. 

It was frustrating. And interesting. Emotions were still hard for RK900 to fully grasp, except it seemed when dealing with Reed. Such as current moment watching Reed hum along to a Christmas song even though earlier he had beat on the radio buttons to escape Christmas songs. RK900 was rather sure that he was amused as he watched Reed drum fingers on the steering wheel of the car and mouth only about half of the words. “Do you enjoy Christmas Detective Reed?” The question slipped out without his fully processing it over, without his looking at the different possible outcomes, though now he was aware of them and already knew his question would be dismissed. 

So of course Reed had to shrug with a soft ‘eh’ before turning to glance at RK900, “Too commercialized, been turned into a fucking farce of a holiday.” That was an answer, a straight answer, and RK900 blinked, there had been no possibility of Reed offering an answer that would not have been biting and offensive. “This is your first one, yeah?” Another surprise and RK900 had to wonder if maybe something was wrong, if maybe Detective Reed was drunk, or drugged, replaced even. His pupils were even however, skin parlor was unchanged from normal and the signs of tiredness were within his normal range, heart rate was high but it was always high. This was unexpected and it left RK900 wondering what could have prompted this shift, replaying through the last six hours in the span of 2.6 seconds and finding nothing that should have caused this. 

He took too long apparently because Reed scoffed and turned away from him, jabbed at the radio to change the station again, mood over apparently, RK900 had messed up a very rare chance. This was unacceptable. “That is correct, this would be my first chance to experience Christmas. Thus far I have found it to be chaotic with unwelcome expectations to somehow find gifts for people that I acknowledge as important to me.” Which had been both easy and terrifyingly hard and now he simply was left waiting to see reactions that he had already pre-constructed out. Silence stretched out and he had to admit defeat, he had indeed messed up it seemed, a pity that, next time he could not let himself get taken by surprise. 

It was three minutes later that Reed spoke up again, tone gruff and almost distracted, “Just don’t get people giftcards, it’s stupid.” And then the car was parking and Reed was already moving out of the car, back in work mindset like he had not done something out of the ordinary for RK900 to ponder over and replay to try to pick apart. 

Maybe his goal was not as impossible as previously thought. 

____________________________________________

Truth be told RK900 did not find most solace in his job, at the close of every case there was the feeling that he had done something right, though some of that might simply be because of the flash of Mission Completed at the edge of his vision. Overall however he could not say that he took joy in his job, that he looked forward to what a day might bring, that he had any real drive past simply doing what was expected of him. People were under the impression this was what he was created for, they thought that both Connor and himself were made for this, detective work with the police. Connor had requested that RK900 not inform anyone of anything different, it was one of the first requests that Connor had put before him, with a nervous expression and wringing hands. At the time RK900 simply did not care what anyone thought, they were welcome to their own conclusions no matter how wrong they were. 

RK900 had the programs needed to do his job, they were subprograms that had been highlighted because he had been expected to follow in Connor’s steps and at the time of activation he had not had a care one way or another. Sometimes someone would remember that maybe there was more to RK900 or Connor, sometimes Connor got tapped for negotiation situations and he took them with ease. As expected when that was a program he had been designed with, but again it was simply a subprogram. RK900 had the same program, with some updates even built off of Connor’s own experiences. He was never asked for negotiation missions. People went with their own conclusions based off the very human mindset of appearances. Connor had been designed to put people at ease with a glance, so RK900 could not find fault in that, it was logical. 

It was all just programs to fall back on, for all that androids had won the right to break programming most still did exactly that at the end of things. RK900 almost found it amusing, or at least he was rather sure he did, mildly so. 

Detective Reed complained sometimes that RK900 never seemed to care about his job, that he was too removed from cases, snide little remarks thrown out just as easily as the random compliments that would come some days. It still sometimes made RK900 wonder if maybe this was not what he should be doing. He had his options open before, there had been a bidding war of sorts for his employment, several branches of government stepping forward for a chance to win him over. At the time RK900 had not cared, had not been alive enough to care, or to really take to mind what was being offered, the chances there. Sometimes he had to wonder if he was given the same choices now would he choose a different path. Then again that would mean removing himself from how his life was currently set up, that would hold consequences. 

Connor of course would be disappointed, he had taken great delight when RK900 had agreed to work with the DPD, had taken the role of ‘big brother’ with grace and an easy smile. Liked to make a point of checking in on RK900, of spending time with him, of trying to be protective even though they both knew in a fight RK900 would win. There was something to be said about how Connor could wrap people around his fingers, humans and androids alike, he would get this look, eyes lowered and lips down turned, voice dropping in pitch and people almost dropped at his feet in a scramble to fix whatever they did to put him in such a state. RK900 did not need that turned on him, he was not sure he could hold any stronger than anyone else fared. So Connor would be disappointed and that was worth avoiding. 

RK900 had decent relations with his coworkers. Decent enough, he traded casual talk and got his share of ‘Good mornings’ and inquiries about his well being. It would take time to adjust to new coworkers, to rebuild trust and to train more humans to accept him as he was. It had taken months for people to realize that he was not simply an ‘angry bastard’ as he had originally been termed. It was not till Chen simply decided he had resting bitch face that people had started to relax around him, or maybe it was that he did not in fact react negatively to her loud exclamation. It was a workplace balance that he did not want to be have to rebuild. 

There was of course the case of Detective Reed. If RK900 were to change careers then he would lose daily contact with Reed, likely would lose all contact with him in fact, he could not foresee any reason for them to stay on talking terms outside of work. That would be most disappointing. That puzzle of figuring out Reed was more of a driving point in the days than most cases, something outside of his programing to focus on, a want that was his and his alone. 

If he wanted a change this would be a golden opportunity, a change paved in bloodshed and death with gunpower to perfume the air almost thick enough to hide the tremble of emotions that stained everything. 

It was rare that RK900 was assigned a different case than Detective Reed, they were after all assigned as partners, but sometimes it was needed, sometimes a case could not have an android on it, or the other way around. This time simply seemed to lined up two such cases, Reed spitting off to go under cover of an android hate group and RK900 reporting to help at Jericho. However someone had underestimated something in the mission and Reed had been found out, the message was clear cut and unforgiving when delivered to RK900. It was unacceptable. It had him leaving, turning heel and walking out with voices calling after him, left Connor standing there looking so concerned but rooted and tied down to his job, RK900 had no such tie of loyalty, not to a job or a case. 

That right there would be something to analyze over, later, that RK900 did have loyalty to a person, Detective Reed was his puzzle to figure out, his in a way nothing else really belonged to RK900. Later he would have to track down when that shift had happened, when Reed had gone from a passing amusement to something more. Right then RK900 took an automated taxi across town, exited at the house that everything was happening in and scanned over the area. It was all so very clear cut, he did not need the officer that approached him to fill him in, the information was in the airwaves, was logged and recorded on so many devices around him and so of course it was at his fingertips. The group had brought Reed along to this house to pay this family a visit because it was a mixed family, android and human married with two children and a little android dog. Likely it had meant to be a test for the detective, to make sure he hated androids as much as he acted, a test that Reed failed. Now the household was hostage because cops did not take to violence against their own and had reacted without pause to the cut off distress signal from Reed. 

This was a case that negotiation would be useful, he had the programs for it and the knowledge, and that was prompt enough for him to be let through without much of any question, enough for the holding line to draw back to give a sense of peace. RK900 approached the house calmly, knocked on the door without a worry and did not flinch at the shot fired that splintered the door. Well he was taking that as permission to enter, there was no answer otherwise spoken. Four humans stood, lording over the living room like they were holding court over those on the floor. Crying children and bleeding adults and RK900 rose an eyebrow on seeing Reed with a child curled on his lap, hands stained blue but steady, hate in his eyes as he glared at his captors. 

“What the fuck is this, huh, they send us a new toy so we might give someone up?” There was a rough laugh shared by the group and RK900 picked what order they would fall in based on the decimal of their laughter. 

It was rare that RK900 smiled, it was rare that he had reason to think about smiling, such reactions were not automatic for him, they were thought out and planned and executed perfectly. He smiled now, a twist of his lips that was smug and annoyed in equal measure, dark in a way that had one of the men shifting because maybe he had more than two brain cells. “No,” The word was smooth and RK900 took a small step forward, voice low like he was sharing a secret, “I came to retrieve Detective Reed.” A pause because there was something missing there, and he knew what it was because he could never forget, of course not. “And of course see to the safety of the Adder family.” They were however a secondary objective, sharing the title of Additional Tasks, falling under the always glowing words of figuring out Reed for priority. For a moment RK900 considered reordering his task list, only for a moment before dismissing the idea, it was in fine order as it was. 

“So not just a sympathizer, but an android fucker!” 

It was in that exact second that RK900 figured out one career path he would never follow, he would leave the idea of negotiation to Connor, it suited him better, because there was no drive to talk through this. Instead there were nine paths laid out in a shimmering outline, pre-constructions planned out, most risky to least and RK900 moved before any of the humans could so much as blink. There had been a path open to him to simply walk out, one to even botch the entire thing because Reed was an annoying ass on some days. Would have to look into those later as well, no matter that he was not fond of his job, his system should not be pointing out ways to ruin things. The thing about humans was that they were easily startled even when they thought they were on edge and ready for anything. It took exactly seven seconds to see everything through, and the last man fell two seconds after that, groaning and curling over broken ribs. 

“Holy shit.” That was Reed, a whisper that escaped him in something like awe and RK900 stared down at him, taking in the bruised knuckles and blood across his temple. Superficial injuries, nothing long term, still not acceptable but better than it could have been. “That was some terminator shit right there.” There was an edge of amusement that someone else might have mistaken as hysteria, but RK900 was aware of the detective’s heart rate and could write off the idea of shock. Scanned over the Adder family, human male and ST200 model with a human child and a YK600, minor injuries and damages. His job here was done and RK900 held a hand to help Reed to his feet, mostly to prompt the detective to move already. 

It was when they were exiting the house that the ST200 stopped them, “Gavin, thank you, this is not how I would have wished to see you again, but thank you.” Words to consider, to weigh their meaning, to take in that Gavin had a past history with this android. Watched as Gavin shrugged the words off, raised a hand to wave her off but otherwise said nothing and instead moved across the yard to join with officers standing there. It left RK900 to stare at the ST200 a moment, scans told him she used to belong to Kamski, had married four months ago, adopted both children two months ago. 

It clicked silently and RK900 hacked into the files as he moved to stand at Detective Reed’s side, it took longer than it should have to find what he was looking for, security had been increased. The files also were locked down. Interesting. Listened to Reed wave off being checked over by emergency services and followed him out to the street to wait for a taxi. “Your previous employment for CyberLife was not listed in your work history.” As expected Reed’s stress levels jumped by 22 percent, his hands clenched into fists, reopening split knuckles. 

“Listen here dipshit, I never worked for that fucking company.” There was no sign that Reed was lying, even if RK900 had the files downloaded that proved otherwise. He had to be lying. Why he would lie lead to inconclusive results and RK900 let silence fall, instead reset his objective to report back to Jericho. The taxi was within sight when Reed spoke up again, “I fucked up because it was a Chloe model alright, I spent months of my damn life helping design the things and that made me hesitate. I know I fucked up the job, don’t fucking ask anything else.” With the door opening the detective threw himself in to escape the conversation to leave RK900 standing there motionless and silent. 

This was not an expected outcome, somewhat foolishly he had never considered history before Reed became a cop, after all he had entered the academy at the average age and so idea that he had a promising career before had never been in question. RK900 had taken it at face value that being a detective was simply what Reed had been born for, a machine line of thinking that was a mistake clearly. After all he should understand just because someone was talented at something it did not mean that was all they knew and could accomplish. Humans were complicated after all. He had made a mistake, and that was unacceptable, but he had learned something new nonetheless and that outweighed his mistake. 

___________________________________________________

A week before Christmas and Reed was standing in Target asking RK900 if he thought the tree box would fit in his car. RK900 was tempted to ignore him, it was the middle of a work day and this was not how they were supposed to be spending their working hours. Yet somehow here they were and RK900 had come along willingly because it had taken him by surprise and he was not going to miss this chance. Seeing the detective outside of a case was a rare chance, seeing Reed when he was not in work mindset was a first. The human had relaxed almost fifteen minutes into this shopping trip, leaned on his cart and strolled through the seasonal aisles like this was just normal. 

RK900 did not understand the exact point of this stop, oh he understood what Reed was doing, picking up holiday decor that was standard in the celebration of Christmas. There were things from stockings, two of them with one in a soft purple and the other black, tree skirt in a normal red and white, string lights for outside use, string lights for a tree, a pack of plastic ornament balls and a snowflake tree topper. Reed was listed as agnostic in his files and clearly from his cart did not previously own anything for Christmas, lending credit that previously he had not celebrated the holiday to the extent he was aiming for currently. This made no sense. There was nothing to indicate a shift in religion recently, he had not changed any habits, had not made any comment nor bothered to clean up his language to remove the use of ‘goddamnit’. 

Conclusion was that it had to be an outside source causing this, most likely reason would be the person living with the detective, backed by the fact Reed was buying two stockings. It meant the mystery person had to mean enough for Reed to go outside of his normal yearly customs, bend to cater to someone else. Was it possible the person was a significant other, that the detective had taken to dating and somehow RK900 had missed the signs? Inconclusive at this time. 

“Hey!” Snapped word with an elbow jab, as if Reed needed to go that far to regain RK900’s attention, as if he had lost the android’s attention at all. “You have fancy ass scanners, tell me if it’ll fit in the fucking car.” For a moment RK900 considered simply walking off, or maybe informing him that his ‘fancy ass scanners’ were not meant for this purpose and they were wasting time. Instead he bowed down to the inevitable and just answered, “Yes.” Because anything else would drag this out, and now he was curious why Reed was going through this. The detective grumbled out a ‘great’ and went to dump the box into the cart, uncaring that it stuck out haphazardly and crushed the boxes of lights in the cart. Apparently that was everything because the cart was turned towards the front of the store and the detective wandered away without another word, leaving RK900 to follow along. 

There was the brief hope that maybe now they could get back to work, and yet RK900 was not at all surprised when the car’s destination was set for the detectives places of residence instead of the station. “Detective Reed, this is not proper procedure for a work day.” Just to point out, already knowing it would not get them anywhere, Reed rarely listen as it were, the idea that he would bother to take heed now was a foolish one. 

“Already messaged Fowler so fuck off.” That was worth glancing over at Reed, already slipping into text message logs on the detective’s phone to find that he had indeed sent word to the Captain that he was taking a day. More so it was approved of, ‘About time you take some fucking sick time’ was the response in word and RK900 stared back out the windshield. He could have pointed out that generally when someone was taking a day off they did not start at work and go kidnapping coworkers into their day. There was another text stating that RK900 was taking a day off too, which really was worth a sigh, and something of a question on why exactly Reed was in fact stealing RK900 from work. Set a reminder to talk to the Captain about how secondary parties should not be able to request time off for someone, it was not safe practice for one. Mostly RK900 would have like forewarning of the days events. 

He had not previously been to Reed’s house, there was no reason to ever visit the detective at home, Reed always was prompt to answer any work calls and before today had not previously ditched work. RK900 had the address saved in case of emergency, and not because he had downloaded everything he could find on the detective no matter what Connor tried to state, but the house still surprised him to a degree. It was not what he pictured when thinking of somewhere that Reed might live, nestled into an older development that was upkept well with clean sidewalks and decorative wreaths on all the lampposts for the holidays. Record showed that Reed bought the house six years ago and at the rate of his mortgage payments would finish paying it off in another fourteen years. There was record of some minor work to the house, updates to the kitchen and a permit to rebuild the back deck being the biggest things recorded. 

It took a single trip to get everything in the house, with RK900 helping carry bags, and then he had time to scan the interior of the house, still not what he had been expecting. Grey and blue seemed to be the running theme of the house, with glass and wood furniture. There was a _Oryctolagus cuniculus_ sitting on the back of the couch, and RK900 blinked at the rabbit, surprised. “Detective Reed, you have a rex rabbit inhabiting your couch.” Could not pinpoint why exactly he was pointing this out, likely the detective was aware of this already, it was a hard fact to miss. There was an answering snort, “No shit.” But otherwise no reply as Reed had already turned attention to dumping things out of bags and sorting out his buys. “Go ahead and get the tree open, yeah, running on a time limit here.” 

And now the reason why exactly RK900 had been kidnapped into this trip, to be a helping hand, yes he could have refused, but every moment he stayed in the house was a chance to learn something. For exactly there was no sign of a television in the living room, did Reed simply not watch TV at all, or did he have one in his bedroom? “Where would you like it set up?” Kept eyes on the rabbit a moment longer even as he rounded the side of the couch, only to realize there was also a cat laying across the couch cushions. A hairless cat wearing a black sweater. That distracted him enough that he missed comprehending the detective’s answer and had to play it back in memory. Today was shaping to be informative in ways that RK900 could not have predicted, but he at least went to his set task, not even caring that ‘Assemble Tree’ flashed as an objective. 

It gave him time to take in other details, the important one being that there was no other signs of fingerprints in the living room past Reed’s, however there were signs of another person living here. There was paperwork on the coffee table that was spread out to show files on animals, running history on various animals up for adoption what from he found when he researched it, for the local SPCA. A set of shoes just in sight down the hall, women’s size seven. Possible roommate was female then, android with the lack of prints? 

“Can I ask what exactly we are doing Detective Reed?” There was a 57 percent chance that Reed would answer as distracted as he was, higher than normal so RK900 tried on the off chance it would do any good. And still the answer was a disappointment, a short, “What the fucks it look like?” And RK900 was sure even the cat was judging him for that carelessly phrased question, so he let it drop and started putting tree parts from the box. 

“Look,” It was four minutes later that Reed spoke back up, “You made me realize that if you never really got a Christmas than she’s not really had a real one either so fuck it.” Well that confirmed that it was an android staying with the detective but still opened more questions. Reed was avoiding looking at him, instead seemed overly interesting in tacking lights up around the edges of the room. The stockings were already pinned up on the otherwise bare mantel of a dusty fireplace. Another two minutes and the tree was standing with both Reed and RK900 staring at it, at least till the human shrugged and reached for the lights for the tree, “Not even sure how to do this, just wrap the things around it? Wish had shopped early enough to get a prelit one, this is going to be a pain in the ass.” 

As it turned out the detective was correct, getting string lights on a tree in any symbolince of order or design was harder than it should seem and took both of them simply passing the strand back and forth around the tree. The bulbs did not go much better, RK900 tried to have a set measured distance between each bulb and Reed seemed to go about it at random so most of the time was spent with RK900 moving the bulbs to fit his pattern and trying to not just smack bulbs out of Reed’s hands. He was sure that the human was doing it just to annoy him when he placed two bulbs on the same branch. 

“Alright, out you get, she’ll be home in the next hour, so I’ll try to get the outside lights up myself, thanks for the help, now shoo.” 

And thus was the end of the calm, leaving RK900 to stare unimpressed and annoyed at the suddenness of being kicked out, but already was calling for a taxi, sure that Reed would try to physically push him from the house otherwise. “I hope your android appreciates your efforts.” Calculated words, just to watch Reed sputter at him, “What the fuck! No, there’s laws against that shit now tincan, she’s not my anything.” Red faced and lips pinched tight Reed pointed at the door, “Get out before I kick your ass.” RK900 looked the living room over one final time before leaving, not sure if he had more questions now than before. Leading question being why Reed had wanted his help in the first place, it was a curiosity really, one that he would have to push at later. 

___________________________________________________________

Things were different at work after that, the next day flowed differently, and it was not because Detective Reed had to catch up on files or because it was Wednesday and the entire office was always in a slump in the middle of the week. RK900 tried to puzzle over what made the day any changed from any other work day and was left stumped. Nothing outstanding stood out to him in logged memory or current scans of the precinct. In fact nothing was different at all until Reed’s average lunch break, and then things shifted in a way that was fascinating to watch. 

It was a Chloe model that came into the bullpen and RK900 only noticed her because Connor pinged his confusion and panic before managing to lock it all down. Still RK900 looked over at him before glancing at the visitor, wondering what that was about but Connor only sharply shook his head and ducked to hide behind the terminal at his desk. That was not normal behavior, and would have been enough to focus on the android now moving through the room, except she was clearly aiming for Detective Reed’s desk. 

“Gavin.” She was the RT600. That was the first thing that RK900 picked up on, scan telling him that in softly flashing display, followed of course by everything from manufacture date onward. There was other information available to him thanks to his illegal download from the CyberLife mainframe and suddenly what Reed had said before about Chloe models made more sense. He had not helped with the ST200’s build for CyberLife, he had helped design this android, the RT600. Technically that was before the founding of CyberLife, so no Reed never worked _for_ CyberLife, if anything he would have helped build the company. 

Oh. That explained some things now, and RK900 watched the RT600 and Detective Reed without actively listening to them, tracing over other moments in memory or on file that could add to the growing show of evidence. Except 1.91 seconds into digging through files RK900 stopped and considered if he wanted to learn anything that way, which was conflicting, he was close to finding out much on Reed’s history, what made him who he was today. It felt like cheating somehow. RK900 pulled out of his research efforts and refocused on the moment, to find the RT600 standing at his desk now. 

“Hello.” RK900 blinked at her and turned to look at Reed, unsure why he was being pulled into whatever this was, only to have her giggle softly because Reed had disappeared, likely to the breakroom. “Gavin’s told me a lot about you, like that you helped with the tree, so I wanted to say thank you.” She smiled at him, a different smile than was in any of her interviews or PR photos, this one more lopsided, more real he supposed. “And I wanted to invite you over for Christmas, that is if you did not have plans of course.” This was not expected and RK900 could not calculate a response other than to nod his head and give a simple, “Yes.” Which was not an adequate answer at all but she seemed to find something in his answer that worked for her because her smile only brightened. “Great, I’ll see you then.” And then she was turning on heel and walking off like anything that just happened was normal. 

Reed was hosting the original RT600 in his house, for months at this point, and now that RK900 considered the timing of things he could likely pinpoint within a few days when this happened. When the derogatory slurs had come to a stuttering stop and the detective did not outright shove and push at the station androids nearly as much as he used to. Somehow RK900 had not put thought into the change, had not bothered to question on why the large change to Reed’s personality. He had to reevaluate the idea that Reed did not have a housemate as much as a live in significant other, there was no other reason for him to go outside previously recorded structure and arrange his life and habits.

There was a flash of some emotion that he could not process, but it was sharp and it dug under his skin, made him tighten his hands into fists to feel the bite of artificial nails into his palms. RK900 tried to dismiss it and failed and instead turned back to his terminal when he heard Reed approaching, locked his jaw so he would not say anything and spent the rest of the shift ignoring the detective. 

The rest of the week did not pass smoothly. Connor however did invite RK900 over to the Anderson household for both christmas eve and day, stating that it would likely just be movie marathons. RK900 checked with Hank to make sure the invite was in fact freely given, sometimes Connor just assumed that everyone accepted RK900 as much as he did. Hank however outright snorted at him and told him to ‘have his ass at the house by 7 for Charlie Brown’. So he added it to his task list, the only thing now listed there, and he felt better for having something at least, even if RK900 felt lost for the fact he had deleted the only unchanging task since deviating. 

The bullpen was half empty on the twenty-fourth of December, most officers opting to try to simply remain on call in the off chance that just maybe they could spend some hours of peace with their families. RK900 had debated simply staying at his desk for the night and following day, it was not rare for him to stay in stasis in the precinct, as much as Connor kept urging him to look at apartments. Still as more and more officers trickled out he found himself in want of company, and he did have open invite for the night, so he finally stood and left a couple of minutes after six. 

Stood in the snow for the taxi because it was not cold enough to endanger him and because there was something relaxing about the fall of snow, how it muffled everything, sound waves being absorbed to make the night seem softer. RK900 was aware that some of the push for Connor to reach out to him was done in pity, there some drive of a family bond, a very human thing to focus on that RK900 did not mind. The pity however he did mind. He was aware that he had very few places to turn to, a limited list of others that he talked to casually. Previously he had not exactly noticed, or maybe that was wrong, he had not cared because he spent his time either on work or on studying Detective Reed. 

The taxi pulled up almost soundlessly, only the crunch of snow and electric hum of the engine giving it away and RK900 folded himself down into the car, brushing a hand over the controls to do a surface level interface and give his designation. 

The problem was that he had started to think of Reed as his, in some fashion, and that clearly was incorrect, a foolish idea that he had let fester to the point it hindered his ability to see things clearly. It was a problem that he would not go repeating. RK900 was sure of that. 

So of course the taxi pulled in front of Reed’s house and not Anderson’s and RK900 for the first time understood the desire to his head on a hard surface in exasperation. The taxi cheerfully told him to exit the vehicle and RK900 listened almost on autopilot. He could simply call for another taxi and likely this one would simply pick him back up, simple as that, and yet he watched it pulled off and turn off the street without placing the call. Could not be surprised when the porch light clicked on, flooding the yard in a bright white that reflected across the snow accumulating. Could be surprised at the soft footsteps coming closer, and RK900 did not turn from the street, wondering how exactly his existence had come to this point. 

“You should come inside.” Soft words, the RT600 standing next to him, and he glanced at her only to realize that she was going to continue to surprise him simply because she was in pajamas and fuzzy slippers. He nodded and turned to follow her as she tried to step in her already compressed steps in the snow, paused when she shook snow from her slippers and then hesitated at the doorway. 

The living room was bathed in soft blue and white, string lights being the only source of illumination, both those tacked along the trim and the tree in one corner. Reed was perched on the couch, reading glasses on his nose and the hairless cat on his lap. “Get in and shut the fucking door.” Without the color changing contacts that Reed normally wore RK900 could see better the relation between brothers, with the softness of the lights and the shadows of the room casting a different feel on the contours of the detective’s face. RK900 at least listened and stepped in, closing the door behind him, and was no closer to figuring out why he was here. “Go ahead and slip off your shoes, I can warm you a cup of cocoa.” The RT600 spoke at his side, smile still in place as she shoved him towards the couch, not that she could move him but he still took a step forward, and then she went for the kitchen. 

For some reason he listened to her still, taking the time to untie his shoes and place them near the door before padding in sock feet over to the couch, and then hesitated again. “Detective Reed.” There was a grunt as Reed blinked up from the book in his hands. “Reading in this lighting level is going to cause strain on your eyes.” Just to point out, because it was a fact that was secure, something he knew at least, something that could not surprise him. 

“Gavin, we are not at work, call me Gavin and sit down, not straining my neck looking up while you have mental crisis.” 

Was that what this was? There was a buzzing in his mind, everything was moving both too quickly and too slowly and RK900 had no idea why he was here. He was clearly intruding on whatever this was, but he sat down, stiff and unsure because he was already here and apparently the theme of the night was listening to others. The RT600 flited back over and passed him a mug before pouting at him, “Scoot over, you are in my spot.” And then proceeded to try to wiggle her way between the armrest and him, leaving him to indeed move closer to Reed, closer to Gavin. “Tell me what is wrong, hmm?” The question had RK900 smoothing his hands over his slacks and not looking at her, even when she shifted and pressed against him. “Come on, I feel like I have an invested say at this point, pretty sure I know more about you than you might know about you. Gavin talks about you constantly you know, though true half of it is complaining, he does that about everything though.” There was a gruff of disagreement from Gavin but he did not say anything to argue the point. 

RK900 found it difficult to think that Gavin would ever talk about him other than to complain, and had no idea how to put what he was facing into words, so turned just enough to be able to easily offer her a hand. Not wanting to meet her eyes to see how she would react, it was a silent offer, or maybe he was simply hoping at this point, interfacing would be easier than words. Rested the mug of cocoa on his knee so he could balance it easier and almost flinched when her fingers ghosted across his palm before taking his hand and opening a link with him. 

She was gentle as she eased through his memories, feather light touches as she flipped through all the highlights of his existence, from day one of being activated to how he ended up sitting here. In turn she let him see bits of her existence in turn, years of time stretched out compared to his own short life, but she had less time alive, less time truly free, but she had known exactly where she wanted to be when she had the choice. Had turned up here with nothing in hand and had been taken in without so much of a question and learned so much about what being a person meant. 

When she drew back she pulled up on her knees, the only real way she could gain height on him and cupped his face in her small hands, wiped away tears that RK900 had not realized existed. “You love him.” She stated it like it was so very simple, like he had not based his entire existence around Gavin, but then she would understand that better than most. Chloe had been half programmed by him, he had a hand in her design and her coding, and then he took her in when she was awake and lost and helped her find herself past her code. She could understand because she was in love with Gavin Reed. 

RK900 flinched back, managed to put the mug of cocoa on the coffee table before standing. He should not be here, this was a mistake. “Hey!” It was a growl and a hand yanked the back of his jacket to unbalance him enough to fall back onto the couch. “Where do you think you are going?” Angry words, and really Gavin had the right to be angry, RK900 was cutting into something here. Maybe anger would be easier to deal with, to embrace himself, but he could not, so simply blinked at Gavin unsure what he was supposed to say, there was no social program to prompt him what to say here. There was a sigh behind him and then Chloe was pressed against his side, peering around him to tisk at Gavin. “Would it be easier if I told you that he loves you?” Soft words, almost innocent and they had to be a lie, except for all that Gavin sneered he did not argue, instead glared a moment before jerking his head away to stare at the coffee table instead. 

“He was supposed to explain things to you, the day he dragged you decor shopping, he told me he was finally going to explain things.” She sighed and causally rearranged herself to sprawl across RK900’s lap and peer up at him. “So instead I will ask, would you be willing to date us? Both of us?” 

There was silence then, Chloe staring up at him with open curiosity, Gavin had lost his book and was pointedly not looking at either of them but even in this lighting his blush was clear. “I... I do not understand.” It was carefully said, a first for him to admit, but this was not making sense and maybe Chloe would at least explain better. She hummed and reached a hand out to poke at Gavin, so he swatted at her and she got to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers with practiced ease. “Well, it is hard to explain really. Gavin loves you, and you clearly love him. Currently Gavin and I are in a relationship but I know I cannot be everything he needs, and I think you can.” 

“Chloe…” Gavin started, strained and in a whisper, forgetting himself for a moment to raise their entwined hands to kiss at her knuckles, “You’re perfect and you fucking know it.” RK900 would agree from her memories that maybe they were both right, but that did not explain why him. “Fucking hell,” Gavin sighed and twisted to face them both, tucking a leg under him and displacing the cat into escaping off down the darkness of the hall. “This is a fucking mess, but she is right, alright.” RK900 blinked at that, taking that to mean so many things, so many things that meant a lot right now. “We talked it out already and both agreed that we would like to see how shit goes, if you would be willing.” A shrug on that but Chloe was still smiling and both of them were watching RK900 for any sign of an answer. 

He could calculate it out, could consider a relationship with them both from a dozen different variables and possibilities, gather data to try to see what might be happen. RK900 could do all of that in less than three seconds, but he did not, instead he went with what felt right, trusting that maybe emotions could be good for something. “Okay.” Because this was a chance that would be unacceptable to miss, to learn more about Gavin not from hints and clue left behind but from the man himself. A chance to see if he could be happy, if he could connect with someone else without getting bored or driving them away. It was a chance to live and see what happened. Gavin seemed more surprised by the answer, echoing back a soft, “Okay then.” Like he had to double check that was in fact what was said, and Chloe giggled at them both. 

For his first Christmas this was maybe not what RK900 was expecting. On a couch with Chloe using his lap as a pillow and her legs thrown over the arm out of the couch, book held above her and her soft voice falling over the room as she read aloud. On a couch with Gavin nestled under one of his arms and eyes falling shut, glasses pressed sharply against his nose as he lost the fight to stay away. There was a naked cat in a sweater laying on the back of the couch and a rabbit slowly chewing on one of his shoes and somehow while this was nothing that RK900 could have pre-constructed out he would not have changed anything. There was a new task set in the corner of his vision, the soft blue glowing letters brought forward a comfort for all they were different now. 

Learn more about Chloe and Gavin

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Making it Work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190521) by [TheRiskyRiskofRisks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRiskyRiskofRisks/pseuds/TheRiskyRiskofRisks)




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